Beautiful Disaster
by celtic-twinkie
Summary: Anders and Solana Amell, the hero of Ferelden and the Commander of the Grey meet up again. Hilarity ensues. Comments & reviews are happily welcomed!
1. Chapter 1

**Big Girls Don't Cry**_  
_Chapter One  
Location: The Arling of Amaranthine

_A/N: The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware. Reviews and constructive criticism are very welcome._

The Templars were royally pissed off.

Anders, a mage of the Circle of Magi (apostate if you wanted to get technical) had managed once again to escape the Tower and lead them on a merry chase across Ferelden. Since the Chantry's main focus was on rebuilding since the last Blight had recently ended, they hadn't exactly sent their best and brightest to pursue him. However, the bumbling fools had soon been joined by Ser Rylock, a thin-lipped, austere female Templar who seemed to harbor a personal vendetta against him. The damned woman was like a bloodhound, relentless in her pursuit of him once she'd gotten word that he'd been spotted in the arling of Amaranthine.

In hindsight, Anders realized he should've planned this portion of his journey more carefully. His first priority should've been to ditch his mage robe and commandeer a disguise that didn't scream, "HELLO I'M A MAGE!" Then he could discreetly locate his phylactery, destroy it and then he would be a free man.

However, Anders was a wreck by the time he painfully limped his way through Amaranthine's city gates. He hadn't eaten in almost two days; he was cold and exhausted. Barely sparing a glance at the City's famed marble statues and bubbling fountains, he'd secured a room in a rundown inn by the docks. Actually, his room was little more than a glorified closet with a narrow bed and a tiny window with a lovely view of a filthy alleyway.

Still, he was grateful that at least the bedclothes didn't smell too rank (if he held them at a reasonable distance from his nose) as he'd promptly fallen onto the bed and passed out. _Just a couple of hours_, he'd told himself. When he woke up he would grab a meal in the pub and then take a long, hot bath. And maybe find a willing wench to spend the evening with…

He hadn't been asleep that long when a gauntleted hand yanked him out of bed and slammed him onto the floor. Anders cursed under his breath as he found himself hopelessly outmatched by a group of Templars and a smirking Rylock.

"So pathetic," Rylock taunted as she kicked him viciously in the groin.

Anders grunted as he doubled over in pain. "Sod off!" he managed to sneer at Rylock before one of the Templars brought a mace crashing onto his head and he knew no more.

* * *

Following his capture, the Templars had marched him to Vigil's Keep where they would spend the night before traveling back to the Tower. Anders supposed he should count himself lucky that the Templars hadn't decided to beat the living shit out of him, or worse, _play prison_, as it were.

Still, as he cooled his heels in the Keep's dungeon with Duane, the Templar assigned to guard him, Anders was already busy plotting his escape.

Ander's machinations were interrupted by the appearance of a woman carrying a tray of delicious smelling food. Her grey hair was pleated into a no-nonsense bun and her shrewd green eyes coolly assessed the room as she made her way to Ander's cell.

"Is that for me?" Duane asked hopefully.

The woman shook her head. "If you want grub, go get it yourself," she answered pertly. "This is for the prisoner."

Duane frowned. "Rylock didn't say anything about the apostate getting fed," he protested.

"You are under the jurisdiction of the Grey Wardens in here, _boy_," she replied. "If you want to take it up with the Seneschal, by all means, go ahead."

Ignoring the dumbfounded Templar, the woman quickly unlocked the cell door with one of the master keys attached to an enormous ring tied to her apron. She entered the cell and set the tray down on the floor, sliding it over to Anders.

Anders immediately grabbed a piece of meat and shoved it into his mouth.

"Not so fast," she said reprovingly. "You'll make yourself sick." She watched in satisfaction as Anders made quick work of the food.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth," Anders remarked as he stuffed another roll into his mouth, "But why are you being so nice to me? Technically I could turn you into a toad and escape."

She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow regally at him. "Is that what you are planning to do, young man?"

"No, ma'am," he mumbled.

"Good." She brushed a stray wisp of hair away from her face. "You may call me Adria by the way."

Anders finished wolfing down the last of his food and settled back against the wall with a sigh of satisfaction. "I'm Anders," he replied. "Apostate extraordinaire."

"And are you a blood mage, Anders?"

"What? No!" He shook his head. "I'm a healer that shoots the occasional arcane bolt. But I don't dabble in blood magic!"

Adria frowned. "Then why are you in a jail cell?"

"Let's just say being stuck in a Tower isn't exactly my style," Anders replied derisively. "I escaped."

Adria studied him for a moment then nodded. "Well met, Anders," she replied. She left the cell (with the door swinging wide open) and returned with a bucket of water. She placed the bucket within Anders' reach and handed him a brick of soap and a worn rag.

"I must get back to my duties now," Adria said as she picked up the empty tray. "You behave yourself, do you hear?"

It was the first time anyone had shown him any sort of kindness in well…forever. He wished there was something more he could do or say to show his gratitude. "Thank you, Adria," he murmured.

Adria nodded and left.

* * *

The Templars came for him early the next day. Anders had been able to give himself a decent wash last night and, coupled with a pleasantly full belly, actually managed to get a decent night's sleep. With his hands bounds in front of him, Anders and the Templars were walking through one of the Keep's long galleries when the shouts of the soldiers could be heard.

The next thing Anders knew, a large group of demonic beings had stormed the room and overwhelmed them. The Templars were dead within seconds and it was a miracle he hadn't been attacked. He quickly grabbed the key off Duane's body and fumbled to unlock his chains. The monsters were nearly on top of him when he managed to mind blast the buggers, which momentarily stunned them. He then unleashed a series of fire spells that annihilated the demons and burnt them to a crisp.

Anders blew away the wisps of smoke still curling from his fingertips then pumped his fist in the air triumphantly. He was bloody free again! He headed towards the exit; when the door suddenly burst open and two women ran in.

"An apostate!" The blue-eyed soldier clad in heavy plate exclaimed. "Commander, what should we do?"

Anders' jaw dropped in shock. The "Commander" the knight deferred to was none other than Solona Amell! He gulped. Of all the people to run into at such a critical juncture! He supposed it might be possible that she could still be pissed that he'd seduced her when she was a mere apprentice. It had been a very pleasant diversion (at the time) in which he'd convinced her that he was in love with her, then shagged her in order to win a bet. The winnings from which (he told himself defensively) had helped to fund his fourth escape attempt.

Little Solana Amell had been the one who to save Ferelden from the Blight and was now the Commander of the Grey Wardens? She was still as pretty as he remembered: her jet black hair coiled tightly into two buns at the nape of her neck, the exotic almond shape of her dark brown eyes and that pretty, pert mouth that had moaned his name as he thrust himself into her until they both cried out in pleasure.

_Not now, boyo._ Anders inwardly groaned and viciously clamped down on his runaway libido.

"It's all right, Mhairi. I know him." Solana crossed her arms and glared at him skeptically, with that expression of disdain that had earned her the nickname 'The Ice Queen' back at the Tower. "_Anders_. The Maker must surely possess a twisted sense of humor."

Anders graced Solana with his most charming smile; the one that _always_ made the female mages melt and enabled him get away with bloody murder (figuratively) in the Tower. "Solana! It's good to see you again! What…"

He would've continued but the Commander lunged at him so quickly, he never saw the right hook that sent him sprawling to the ground, courtesy of her angrily clenched fists.

Anders gingerly touched his bloodied nose. "I suppose I deserved that," he said ruefully.

"Bloody hell yes, you did," she muttered. However, she surprised him again when she held out her hand. Anders cautiously took it and heaved himself up.

"We still have darkspawn to kill," Solana said curtly. "Anders, you come with me. If you try to run from me again, I swear to the Maker I will _geld_ you."

The Warden Commander stalked out of the room without a backwards glance. Mhairi eyed him scornfully, as if she'd somehow been able to divine his multitude of sins against the opposite sex merely from being punched in the face. She left the room with all due haste.

Anders' eyes glinted with sardonic amusement as he quickly looted the Templars' bodies for his gear and whatever else he could scrounge up. He then hurried after the Warden Commander.

Life just got a lot more_ interesting_.

_A/N: Anders hasn't gotten enough love (from me), so this story was born. I originally wrote a scene from his POV for "A New Dawn" but ended up scrapping it. However the poor dear kept clamoring for his own story. So here it is, unbeta'd and quite a different tone from Nate's story. I hope you enjoy it! As always, reviews and comments are always welcome!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Quo Vadamis**_  
_Chapter Two  
Location: Vigil's Keep

_The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware. _

Solana Amell's initial foray into Vigil's Keep as Warden Commander of Ferelden wasn't exactly going as expected.

She'd arrived to find Vigil's Keep overrun with darkspawn and immediately leapt into action killing them and saving who she could along the way. Mhairi had thus far proven to be an able warrior, but her inexperience left her uncertain, which meant Solana had to step it up and make up for the difference. Reports of a talking darkspawn worried her greatly, but she focused on the task at hand.

The complete and utter shock of seeing Anders, in the very last place she expected, stymied her. She'd viciously tamped down that tiny, traitorous part of her that was overjoyed at seeing _him_ again. Then her temper took over as long dormant feelings of betrayal and abandonment reared their collective heads and before she knew it, she'd punched him in the nose which, though satisfying, was hardly professional.

Anders had made her fall in love with him so very long ago. Although to be truthful, it hadn't taken much to convince her of his ardor. They'd shared one glorious night together and the next thing she knew, Anders had escaped the Tower again without as much as a _by-your-leave_. She later found out that Anders had seduced her because of a wager with another female mage, Daphne (who constantly boasted of her rich family and had despised Solana). The wealthy relatives, Solana supposed, was where the sovereigns had come from to fund that ridiculous bet came from.

Still, she decided, it wasn't a bad thing that she'd found Anders, who automatically took up healing duties, enabling her to focus on felling the enemy faster. Stumbling into Oghren had also been a fantastic stroke of luck. The more people she had with her, the better.

When the group finally reached the battlements, they rounded a courner and a darkspawn Solana had never seen the likes of held a dagger to the throat of a man in silverite armor, who was on his knees.

"Anders, catch!" Solana snapped as she tossed him her satchel filled with lyrium potions. Ogrhen and Mhairi rushed in to attack the being that himself called T_he Withered_.

Solana concentrated on taking out the lesser darkspawn as Oghren and Mhairi battled The Withered.

"This one is harder to kill then the others, Commander!" Oghren grunted mid-fight.

Solana glanced concernedly at Anders, who was alternately unleashing massive amounts of magical damage and keeping their group protectively healed without breaking a sweat. What was he trying to do, show off? "Anders! Concentrate on healing! Leave the killing to the others!" she yelled.

"Why can't I do both?" he shouted back, continuing to shoot arcane bolts.

"Because you'll…" She stopped when the Withered suddenly turned his attention to Anders and charged towards him with a bellow of rage. Anders' eyes widened in alarm as he tried to back up and get out of the way. Oghren tried to taunt him off, but the darkspawn was too maddened to pay attention.

Solana cursed under her breath and swiftly transformed into a bear to charge The Withered, knocking him to the ground. He went down, but swung his sword wildly, scoring a gash in Solana's side in retaliation. She roared in pain, but her interception gave Oghren the crucial seconds needed to step in and lop the foul creature's head off in one fell swoop.

Solana shifted into human form again, and lay on her back gasping in pain. She tried to get up, but Anders was swiftly at her side, restraining her and checking over her injury.

"You okay there, Commander?" Oghren asked, leaning on his axe and breathing heavily.

"Yes. Go help _him_," she said, jerking her head towards the former hostage. Oghren and Mhairi hurried to comply.

"And that's why you bloody _listen_ to me, Anders," she muttered under her breath.

"It's a shallow laceration, but it'll require stitches," Anders pronounced calmly. Waves of blue healing light flared from his fingertips. "You were lucky."

"Commander, I thank you for saving me." The unknown man suddenly loomed over her, his face shadowed by the glare of the sun.

Glad for the distraction, Solana shut her eyes. "You are…the Seneschal I presume?"

"I am Varel," he affirmed with a nod. "I shudder to ponder what would've happened had you not arrived when you did."

"Well met, Varel." Solana hissed in pain when Anders touched upon a tender spot.

The Seneschal turned his attention to the horizon of the setting sun. "Commander, a group of armed riders is approaching the Keep. Hopefully they are friendlier then the last bunch."

Solana inspected her wound and was pleased to find that Anders had stopped the bleeding. "Indeed. I suppose we should go meet them." Solana swatted Ander's hands away and slowly got to her feet.

"I'm not done yet!" Anders protested.

"This is sufficient for now. The rest can wait till later." Solana hastily bandaged herself and made a token attempt to restore her appearance. Taking advantage of Varel's proffered arm, Solana made her way slowly towards the gates of Vigil's Keep.

Solana was met by none other than the King himself, his contingent of royal guards and an angry looking Templar.

"Solana! Are you all right?" Alistair asked concernedly.

"Tis a mere scratch. I would kneel before _my liege,_" Solana teased affectionately, gracing him with an impish smile when Alistair winced. "But I fear I wouldn't be able to get up again."

"I'm never going to get used to you calling me that," Alistair muttered.

"Your Majesty, the Keep has been cleared of all darkspawn, thanks to the Commander," Varel pronounced solemnly, then continued to fill Alistair in on the day's events.

"You have quite task ahead of you, Commander," Alistair commented when Varel had finished his report. "I would lend you aid but I have to deal with the trouble in the Bannorn."

"I'll be fine, Alistair," Solana replied. "I appreciate your..."

"King Alistair!" Rylock eagerly interrupted. " Your Majesty, beware! This man is a dangerous criminal!"

Anders rolled his eyes. "She means me."

"This is the apostate we were in the process of bringing back to the Circle to face justice," Rylock insisted.

"Oh please!" Anders replied heatedly. _This was new_, Solana thought. She had never seen an angry Anders. "The things you people know about justice would fit into a thimble. I'll just escape again, anyhow."

"Never! I will see you hanged for what you've done here, murderer!" The Templar sneered.

_Bloody hell, Rylock was a conniving bitch. _To Solana's recollection, Anders had never dabbled in blood magic. He just found life in the Tower unendurable and tried to escape multiple times.

_And broke your heart in the process, remember?_

"Murderer? But those templars were…" Anders protested. "Oh what's the use…you wouldn't believe me anyhow.

Solana tried to ignore the ache in her heart at the defeated vulnerability in Ander's eyes.

The King shrugged. "It seems there isn't much to say. Unless you have something to add, Commander."

Solana made her decision in that very second. Rylock smugly interpreted the lengthening silence as a victory for the Chantry and moved forward to seize Anders.

"Hold!" Solana's sharp command had Rylock glaring at her. "I hereby conscript this mage into the rank of the Grey Wardens." She thought she heard Anders breathe a deep sigh of relief behind her.

"Your Majesty!" Rylock protested.

Solana stepped forward. "That means hands off my healer, _bitch_."

The seething anger in Rylock's expression promised that this wasn't the end of the matter, however, the King murmured his agreement with Solana and Rylock stomped away angrily.

* * *

She saw to her new recruits' Joining, but only stayed long enough to see who survived. Anders and Oghren made it, Mhairi didn't. In fact Oghren seemed unfazed by the whole ordeal, only emitting a loudly obnoxious burp. Anders, however was still unconscious. Not trusting herself to be alone with him, she'd instructed Varel to have someone move Anders to his assigned quarters and keep watch over him until he awoke.

She buried the regret of losing Mhari and concentrated on the tasks at hand. She'd immediately been inundated by requests from Mistress Woolsey, Captain Garavel and many others. She found Varel to be a wise and gentle man, and knew she would rely on him heavily in the days to come. Her expertise was limited to killing things and people that pissed her off…the logistics of running an entire estate intimidated her, but she knew she needed to assess the damage to the keep, inventory their stock, see to giving the dead a proper burial, hiring a new staff and such. Meanwhile, her first order of business was to interrogate a prisoner in the dungeon whom apparently had snuck into the Keep; it'd taken four Wardens to capture him.

* * *

Much, much later, a very tired and weary Solana finally trudged up to her new quarters (formerly Rendon Howe's private chambers). Varel had thoughtfully seen to it that her belongings were already squared away, a cheery fire had been lit and a bath drawn. She laid her staff against the wall, threw her gear on the bed and used a dagger to cut the bloodstained robe off herself, then washed as best she could, given her injuries. She was still toweling her hair dry when a knock on the door caught her attention.

"Come." She called out.

Her gaze turned wary as Anders opened the door and stepped in. "Solana?"

"What do you need, Anders? I've had a very long day, and…"

"I wanted to thank you for what you did with Rylock. I suppose, given…" He paused, as if searching for the right words. "The way things were left between us, it would've been within your purview to hand me over to the Templars. But you didn't, and I'm most grateful for that."

Solana eyed him coolly. "The ranks of the Grey Warden needed to be bolstered. You skills as a healer will be invaluable in the days to come."

Dead silence.

Anders finally cleared his throat. "I, uh, need to finish tending to your wound."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm fine. I've dealt with it."

"May I remind you that healing oneself is rather like cutting one's own hair? Not to be attempted unless one is very sure of their own expertise."

She glared at him. "Are you mocking my skills as a healer?"

He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but his eyes glinted derisively. "Not at all."

Solana shook her head and crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Maker's breath, it was a joke! It's not like I'm trying to have it off with you!" At Solana's continued silence, Anders raked a hand through his hair in frustration and tried again. "Look, you saved my ass a couple of times today; won't you let me return the favor?"

Solana finally relented with a huff of frustration and carefully sat on the bed. She pulled her robe open, baring herself fully to him. Her baleful expression practically dared him to make a snarky or libidinous comment. Mercifully, Anders didn't say a word and his expression remained carefully neutral, but for the faint flush of color in his cheeks.

"Lean back a little," he said, coaxing her gently back onto the bed. "There you go."

Solana closed her eyes, fighting to suppress the shiver of pleasure as his fingertips, pulsing with blue waves of healing light, gently ghosted across her torso.

"You know, I never meant to hurt you…" Anders began as he began to stitch up her wound. "It's just that the thought of being stuck in the Tower for the rest of my life was unendurable, I did whatever I had to escape that hellhole."

Solana sighed. It was so _like_ Anders to choose to have this conversation _now_. "What happened between us wasn't all bad," she replied dismissively, as if she were merely discussing the weather. "It taught me the world is governed mainly by self-interest; it was a lesson that served me well during the Blight."

A tense silence ensued until Anders finally finished stitching her wound. He added a dusting of styptic powder over her stitches for good measure, and then put a light linen dressing on it. He nodded with approval at his work as Solana covered herself up again.

"So that's it?" he asked with an arched brow.

"What's it?"

"You knock me on my ass and all is forgiven?" he asked sardonically.

She shrugged. "It's water under the bridge. There is little point in wallowing in regret and self pity. However, I want to very clear about something, Anders," she said pointedly. "You are now a Grey Warden and I expect you to be worthy of that title. Is that _understood_?"

Anders threw her a mock salute. "Yes ma'am." He stood and began to gather his things.

"_Dismissed_, Anders."

With a final glance, he left the room and shut the door behind him.

Solana blew out the candle and lay back on the bed, trying to will the tide of emotion away.

She would not let herself succumb to his charms again. She could not survive another heartbreak.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to b, my lovely beta for making the chapter to not sound massively retarded._

_Thank you to everyone who has read, favorited and alerted this story! I appreciate feedback and reviews, it keeps me motivated to continue writing, seriously._

_I've extemporized on some of the in-game convos since you've already heard it, I figured that you wouldn't need a word for word replay. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Walk Like a Man**_  
_Chapter Three  
Location: Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine

_He had her exactly where he wanted her: naked and pinned against the wall._

"_Anders," she moaned as he kissed his way down the pale, alabaster skin of her body. His hand tightened possessively on her thigh as he realized he was the first to lay his lips upon her body. After months of carefully building a friendship with 'The Ice Queen', he had professed his eternal love for her. His ardent efforts had finally paid off as she submitted to his advances at last__._

"_Spread your legs for me, love, that's it…" he murmured between kisses. She trembled but complied, allowing him deeper access to her core. He parted her and began to lick and suck, enjoying the taste and scent of her arousal. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she instinctively guided his mouth to the most pleasurable spot. He was determined to make her first time a memorable one. Something for her to cherish after he left the Tower for the fourth time…_

_He petted and caressed her until his fingers were coated with her slick. "Maker's breath," she gasped as he slid two fingers into her and began thrusting in time to the patterns his tongue was tracing against her center. Solana was no match for his skilled technique and soon she climaxed against his mouth with a muffled cry._

_He had to have her, now. As she leaned weakly against the wall, Anders stood up and held her close, claiming her mouth and caressing her breasts until she shivered against him._

"_I love you," he whispered. It wasn't really a lie, he had grown to like and esteem Solana over the past six months. He respected her talent as a mage, though she was extremely shy._

_Solana reached between them and grasped him, guiding him to her entrance. He pushed into her, met resistance and paused, not wanting to hurt her any more than necessary, but Solana would have none of it. She wrapped her legs around him and impaled herself on him in one decisive motion._

_Maker's breath, she was hot and wet, tightly gripping his manhood like a velvet fist as he began thrusting urgently…_

Anders raked a hand through his hair in frustration as he wandered the halls of Vigil's Keep with a raging hard-on that wouldn't go away. He had to stop thinking about her_ naked_ _and_ _writhing _beneath him. It was also sheer torture to dwell on Solana's motivation for snatching him from the jaws of Chantry justice. Why in the Maker's name had she shown him mercy, acting as if nothing had happened between them at all? Was he (and their one night together) that utterly forgettable? Had she taken any subsequent lovers? Her actions since they'd met up again had been exceedingly particular. How had she defeated an Archdemon as only one of two Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden? What, exactly, had happened to transform her from that the shy, bookish apprentice he'd known back at the Tower into the godlike Warden Commander?

Outwardly, he had nothing to complain about. Life as a Grey Warden, thus far, seemed too good to be true. He'd been assigned his own private room and was fed three square meals a day, and there'd even been mention of a generous monthly stipend. He'd initially reveled in the freedom to sleep late, to do as he wished with no structure imposed him. And the best thing of all? No sodding Templars!

Solana had instructed her new Wardens to outfit themselves appropriately, giving them free reign of the Armory. Apparently she'd amassed quite the collection of armor and weaponry during her days in the Blight; most of it was expensive and high in quality. Like a kid in a candy shop, Ander had spent a great deal of time debating (_read: oohing and ahhing over_) the relative merits of the available mage armor sets. He finally settled on one called _Wings of Velvet_*, as it significantly boosted his magical abilities (it didn't hurt that it complimented the color of his eyes perfectly either). However, beyond that, she hadn't said much else.

And so Anders found himself with too much free time on his hands.

He avoided Nathaniel (did that man do anything other than stare, brooding, into the distance?) and, after losing badly to Oghren in a series of drinking contests (he couldn't hold his liquor for shit), he kept to himself. He was further puzzled by the fact that he had absolutely no interest in bedding the score of buxom maids who'd and giggled coyly and fluttered their lashes at him.

It only took the better part of a day to thoroughly explore the Keep (noting all possible escape routes and the best hiding places, just in case the Templars decided to come back).

After sharing a bottle of sherry with Groundskeeper Samuel, Anders decided to tidy the sadly neglected herb garden. He spent a week digging in the dirt, pruning and fertilizing the various plants, until the herb garden was shipshape. It only seemed logical that he then take the initiative to harvest, dry and properly store the herbs he deemed necessary for daily use. Hell, he'd even reorganized the entire collection of apothecary jars, flasks and crucibles several times over (first alphabetically then by color then back to alphabetically again) until everything was arranged to his satisfaction.

He barely saw Solana, since she spent all her time locked in her office with Varel; a steady stream of visitors entered and left her office as though it had a revolving door. Anders decided to take matters into his own hands when the time came to remove Solana's stitches. He'd marched to her office and kicked the door open rudely (his hands were occupied with his healing detritus, weren't they? What else was he supposed to do?) and stepped into the room.

"Yes?" Varel asked brusquely.

"I'm here to remove the Warden Commander's stitches," he said in what he hoped was a commanding tone. Varel was seated next to a very tired and weary looking Solana, apparently discussing trade agreements with the other arlings of Ferelden.

"Solana, if you would grant me a few moments, I can remove them and be out of your way."

Varel crossed his arms and glared at Anders. "Perhaps you and I need to have a discussion regarding etiquette, Anders. And you _will_ address the Arlessa as either _Warden Commander_ or _Her Ladyship_! Furthermore-.."

"It's fine," Solana interrupted Varel's tirade. "You need a break anyways."

"As you wish, Commander." Varel bowed and exited, closing the door behind him.

Solana leaned back and pulled up her linen shirt, exposing the neat row of stitches that decorated her side. Anders knelt down and examined her.

"I'm sorry I haven't had more time to spend with you, Nathaniel and Oghren," Solana remarked as he took a pair of snips and began to cut the stitches. She shut her eyes and sighed tiredly. "I'm just trying to square away the most urgent matters before we leave to track Kristoff, but everything keeps piling up."

Anders kept his touch impersonal, but gentle, as he removed the last of the thread. "It's fine. I've been keeping myself busy picking flowers and frolicking with the creatures of the forest."

Solana smiled as he'd intended.

"We'll be leaving for the city of Amaranthine in two days' time. Let Nathaniel and Oghren know, will you?"

"No problem," he replied. "Ah, what beautiful work I do! You can barely see the scar, now!" He longed to gently trace the scar and memorize its texture. Instead, he shook his head and looked up. She was staring at him intently, as if waiting for him to make the next move. Perhaps now would be the perfect time to apologize to her. "Solana? I-"

A knock at the door interrupted whatever he'd been about to say. Solana immediately jerked her shirt back down. The door opened and a steward peered in. "Excuse me, Warden Commander but representatives from the City of Denerim have arrived. They've requested an audience with you."

"I'm sorry, Anders," she murmured contritely.

Anders gathered up his things as people began filling the room again, eager for the Warden Commander's attention. "It's okay, we'll talk later," he replied, and left the room.

* * *

Boredom eventually drove Anders make his services as a healer available to the Vigil's staff, the guards and their families. Because of his deft touch and gentle bedside manner, he quickly earned the respect and adoration of the Keep (he hoped Solana had noticed this), especially when he helped the head chef's young daughter recover from the croup. From that moment on, the plump, dark-haired Moira never failed to supply Anders with prime tidbits of whatever she was cooking, whether it was a savory roast or fruit tarts straight from the oven.

He was, in fact, at that particular moment, headed towards what he considered the heart of Vigil's Keep-the kitchen, or _The Downstairs _(his own private term for it). Not only did he pass the time in pleasant company there, it was the best source for gossip, to keep abreast of the inner workings of the Keep, and to hear news of Solana.

"Anders, love!" Moira called out as he entered the kitchen. "I've saved a pasty for you!"

He took the linen-covered dish from her gratefully, and sat at a nearby table that afforded him a view of the kitchen, but kept him out of everyone's way. The kitchen was busy with the servants preparing the evening meal for the entire Keep. Moira herself was turning a spit with the most juicy, fragrant side of beef he'd ever smelled. He slid the napkin off the plate and blew on the pasty, trying to cool it down. When he finally took a flaky bite, brimming with buttery bits of beef, potato and onion, he closed his eyes in bliss.

"Mmmm, delicious! You've outdone yourself as usual, Moira," he murmured appreciatively.

Moira snorted derisively. "Flatterer." However, her cheeks were pink with pleasure as she continued to baste the roast.

The servants were well used to Anders' presence in the kitchen and didn't hesitate to speak freely in front of him.

"Ooh, have you heard," remarked Bertie, who was currently chopping vegetables, "Her ladyship barely spends any time in her private chambers? Her bed linens is always neat as a pin, like she never sleeps there!"

"Of course not!" Niamh, who was busy kneading dough, scoffed. "The Warden Commander was awake at five bells, going through the papers at her desk, when I went to light the fire in her office this morning! With all that coffee she keeps ordering us to bring her, what was it-six carafes today? She don't need any sleep, I reckon!"

"That ain't nothing," Chloe, another serving girl who sat polishing silverware, replied dramatically. "I heard from one of the stewards, apparently he overheard her Ladyship telling Seneschal Varel that she can't sleep because of the terrible headaches she's been suffering lately!"

The girls murmured over this interesting bit of news.

Moira clucked disapprovingly. "It's not our place to gossip about the Arlessa, girls. Now not another word from any of you, or it'll be your heads I'm serving for this evening's dinner!"

"Yes ma'am!" Three pairs of eyes simultaneously widened and they quickly bent to finishing their appointed tasks.

Moira turned her attention back to Anders. "Did you want another?" she asked, but he was already gone.

_"Coffee_," Anders muttered angrily to himself as he stalked back to his room. "_Filthy Orlesian habit."_

This was absolute fuckwittage. What was the bloody point of conscripting three people into the ranks of the Grey Wardens, just to let them sit around like absolute dumbshits for two weeks, when they could've been helping Solana out, instead of her shouldering the entire burden and responsibility of running the arling all by her bloody self?

Anders longed to barge into Solana's office again and tell her exactly what she could do with her sense of duty, and where to shove it.

He took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. Anders proceeded to mix several varieties of herbs in a mortar and pestle. After crushing and grinding them to the desired consistency, he placed a small amount of the mixture into individual tiny silk sachets, which he then quickly and expertly sewed shut.

He gathered his things and was greeted by Moira's friendly grin when he returned to the kitchen. "Back for seconds so quickly, dear?"

"Moira," he said urgently. "I need you to do me a favor."

"What is it?" she asked, intrigued. She'd never seen the mage look so frustrated before.

Anders handed her the packet of silk sachets. "I hereby forbid the Warden Commander to drink any more coffee. I don't care if the _sodding King of Ferelden_ comes in here and orders you to serve it to her in his boots!" he demanded sternly. "If she starts whining, serve her this tisane instead. It's very important that you prepare it by soaking one of these in a mug of boiling water for exactly five minutes. Furthermore, whoever delivers the tray is to stay and ensure that the Commander drinks the entire cup, then report back to me."

Moira was staring at him as though he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "Oh?" she said carefully. "What's it for?"

Anders' usually glib demeanor suddenly deserted him as he belatedly realized he should've approached Moira privately. He hoped the blush now staining his face and neck wasn't too noticeable as he stoically endured the tittering of the serving girls behind him.

"Umm. It's to help. With her, you know, it should ease her headache," he babbled. "I mean she did save my neck when she rescued from the Templars and made me a Grey Warden…I owe her a debt I can never repay…since when, at the Tower, I left and…"

_Shutup shutup shutup_, he told himself harshly. _Say something reasonable-sounding before they think you are a raving lunatic._

Anders took a breath and strove for a more reasonable tone. "What I meant to say was," he amended, "That as the Keep's resident healer, it is my duty to see that the needs of _everyone, _including the Warden Commander, are attended to."

Moira fixed Anders with a shrewd glance and finally nodded. "All right. I'll make sure it gets done."

"Thank you, Moira." Anders ignored the speculative looks the occupants of _the Downstairs_ were shooting his way and made his escape as though the demons of the Black City were chasing him.

* * *

_Much thanks to b, my lovely beta, who wields her comma baton with grace and wisdom, for the edits!_

_Thank you to Shakespira, Nithu, Eva Galena & LampPostInWinter for the reviews! It is much appreciated! Thanks also to everyone who has read, favorited, or alerted the story._

_*The Wings of Velvet mage armor set is from a mod called "Wings of Velvet" by Moonwing, available from the dragon age nexus website._

_The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Keep Holding On  
**Chapter Four  
Location: The Arling of Amaranthine

The winds of change were stirring at Vigil's Keep.

At its center was Warden Commander Solana Amell, who had wholeheartedly thrown herself into the role of Arlessa and shouldered its associated burdens and responsibilities. No one could fault her enthusiasm, as she spent her days attending endless meetings with Seneschal Varel and _everyone_—from farmers to dignitaries—came to meet with her regarding farming, rural and economic issues. Oh yes, and there was that pesky matter of darkspawn.

Truth be told, she'd kept herself busy through the days and nights so she didn't have to think about _him_. Sleep meant vivid images involving Anders looping endlessly in her mind, and all the latent anger, insecurity and heartbreak flooded back with a vengeance. She felt as if she had turned back into that naïve girl who'd somehow been so lacking, Anders had abandoned her without a second glance.

One late evening (morning really), after two weeks of nonstop meetings and many a late night spent working, she found herself reviewing the 'milk book' with Varel:

_Feckless – 5 gal of milk._

_Graceless–6 gal of milk._

_Aimless–4 gal of milk._

_Milkless–0 gal milk. (tail fell off)_

"Why in the Maker's name would Rendon Howe give his cows such horrible names?" Solana muttered.

Varel smiled. "It's late. You should get some rest. You know you can trust me to competently handle these mundane issues."

Solana rubbed her eyes tiredly. "You've been wonderful, Varel. I guess I got a little carried away, didn't I?"

A quick knock on the door interrupted their conversation. "Come," she called out.

Solana frowned when she saw Moira enter the room, bearing a tray laden with a teapot instead of her usual carafe. "What's this?"

"Tisane, my Lady. Anders said-"

"Moira," she said sternly. "What does Anders have to do with what I choose to drink?"

Moira flushed but remained silent.

"It's all right," Varel said gently. "You may speak freely."

"Anders mentioned that her Ladyship was drinking too much coffee." She paused as if trying to search for the correct word. "He _suggested_ you drink this tisane instead." Moira nervously waited for a reaction.

Solana's temper immediately flared. She'd heard of how Anders had _valiantly_ nursed Moira's deathly ill daughter back to health, but hadn't realized the extent to which Anders' had gained the adoration and loyalty of the staff. Still, just who the bloody hell did he think he was, trying to dictate what she did and didn't drink? However, Solana kept her expression carefully neutral. "I would like you to bring me a carafe of coffee now, please."

"I cannot, my Lady."

"Why not?" Solana asked, baffled.

Moira refused to meet Solana's eyes. "The bag of coffee beans seems to have been destroyed in an unfortunate kitchen fire."

"I see," she said calmly. She had no doubt that the alleged fire had Anders' dirty fingerprints all over it. She'd rather drink cow piss than this tisane. "That will be all, Moira."

"But, my lady, the tea! Anders said I was to make sure you drink the entire_–_" Moira protested.

Solana only arched an eyebrow and fixed the servant with a pointed look (the one that had made Loghain yield at the Landsmeet) until Moira finally curtseyed, and with a mumbled "Yes, my lady," she left the room.

Solana stood up agitatedly and began pacing the room, muttering a steady stream of curses so vile; they had Varel's cheeks turning red.

"Is everything all right?" Varel asked mildly.

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Will you please instruct the Wardens to meet me at the front gate at six bells? We leave for the City of Amaranthine in the morning."

Varel nodded cautiously. "I'll have Moira pack you some provisions as well."

She slammed the milk book shut. "Thank you. We are done here."

* * *

They set out the very next morning to track Kristoff. It was nice to be out in the fresh air again and actually doing something that didn't involve meetings or strategy sessions.

There was a list of places she needed to check on: a couple of farm holds with reports of darkspawn and rescuing a Bann's daughter who'd been kidnapped; tasks which were dispatched with easily. They stopped briefly in the City of Amaranthine. Though there were pressing matters within the City itself that needed to be taken care of, Solana only stayed long enough to investigate Kristoff's room at the Crown & Lion Inn, which revealed a map, indicating that Kristoff had gone to the Blackmarsh.

By the time Solana and her Wardens made it to the outskirts of the Blackmarsh, the sun was already setting, illuminating the sky into a vibrant, smoky orange.

"The Veil is thin here," Solana commented with a shiver. "Its best we make camp for the night. We may not be able to rest again for quite a while."

After unloading their gear, Oghren went to gather firewood while Nathaniel went to hunt something up for dinner.

There were so many tasks to accomplish: she wanted to mix up extra batches of healing and mana potions, just in case of a prolonged stay in the Blackmarsh; she needed to fully disclose to the group the implications of being a Grey Warden; and then she needed to set up protective wards about the camp before they retired for the night. She would take first watch, then she'd ask Oghren to take second watch and…

"Alone at last, eh?" Anders joked nervously.

Solana cleared her throat, careful to maintain a professional demeanor. "Right. Would you like to set-up the tents or cook dinner?"

"I'll cook," he decided after a minute. "I've never had very much luck with those blasted tents."

"Fair enough." With a mallet in hand, Solana held out a tent stake and prepared to drive it into the ground.

"How are the headaches?" asked Anders, who had moved to sit upon a nearby rock and was studying her intently.

She frowned. "Pardon?"

"The headaches you've been suffering from. Have they eased?"

Her earlier irritation with him came flooding back as she pounded the stake viciously with the mallet. "How is that any of your business? And by the way, would you please _refrain_ from dictating to the servants what I _can or cannot drink?_"

"Is that stick thing supposed to go _completely_ underground?" Anders eyed her progress with interest.

Solana yanked the stake back out. "I need you to focus on healing the group when we're in combat. You needn't concern yourself with anything else."

"I disagree. I also serve as Healer to the denizens of Vigil's Keep. And since you count as one of those, your well-being is my concern." Anders sighed at the stubborn look on Solana's face. "Look, I'm not proud of my past behavior. I'm trying to make it up to you," he said quietly.

Solana shook her head and this time expertly drove the stake into the ground. "There's no need to. Simply obey orders and we're fine."

"Maker's breath, woman!" Anders jumped off the boulder and grasped her arm. "You shouldn't bear all this responsibility on your own! Let me help you."

"Enough!" Solana abruptly jerked away from him and concentrated on unfolding a length of tent canvas.

Anders frowned. "Solana?"

Nathaniel suddenly reappeared at camp, holding a brace of hares he'd caught. "Everything all right?" he asked, sensing the simmering tension. When no one said anything, he shrugged.

Solana heard Anders sigh deeply again, but she studiously ignored him. "Ah yes," he remarked wryly. "Apparently I volunteered to cook tonight. I suppose I should look for Oghren and make sure he hasn't fallen into a hole somewhere."

* * *

They broke camp early the next morning after a hurried breakfast of way bread and hot tea. The sky was dark and cloudy; and there was a pressing thickness to the air, as if some malevolent entity were trying to push the Wardens out of its territory. Blackened trees stripped bare of their leaves jutted ominously and numerous rotting carcasses littered their path. The small bands of wolves, shrieks and darkspawn they encountered were easily dispatched.

"Five gold says we get stuck in the Fade again," Solana muttered, though inwardly she was pleased with how Nathaniel, Oghren and Anders fought together as a team so far.

Oghren harrumphed. "Make it ten and you have yourself a deal."

They eventually wandered onto the crumbling remains of a large estate: complete with a large, decaying mansion looming ominously over the ruins of a village. After conducting a house-to-house search, and picking up anything of value, an abandoned camp was spotted.

"Definitely Kristoff's belongings," Solana remarked as she held his locket in her hand. "Maybe he's just gathering firewood and will be back in a few minutes."

"Sure, and Howe here wants to give me a _blow job_," Oghren said sarcastically. "Let's just find this guy and get out of here, Warden!"

"For once I agree with the dwarf," Nathaniel replied with a sardonic smile. "Though not about the oral sex part."

Solana glanced at Anders, who seemed uncharacteristically subdued, from beneath her lashes. _Focus_, she told herself.

"Let's move on then," Solana said briskly. "I—"

"Ware fore!" Nathaniel suddenly yelled.

Solana's attention was drawn to the mass of large yellow slugs with hideous faces, the likes of which she'd never seen before, swarming towards them.

"Stand your ground!" she shouted. Oghren had already charged in the midst of them, chopping and hacking his way through them. Nathaniel immediately nocked an arrow to his bow and quickly fired while Anders backed up slightly, ready to heal when necessary. Solana followed after Oghren, casting spell after spell to slow, and then quickly eradicate as many the creatures as she could. However, both she and Oghren couldn't get them all. One of the grubs had managed to slither past Nathaniel's blind side and launched itself onto the rogue, knocking him down. Nathaniel screamed in agony as the grub's sharp teeth tore a deep gash into his shoulder.

Solana immediately ran to the rogue and thrust her sword through the grub (carefully so as not to injure Nathaniel further), killing it.

"Help him!" Solana snapped. Anders immediately set to healing Nathaniel while Solana and Oghren finished off the remaining grubs.

Nathaniel's pale face grimaced in pain as Anders cast a healing spell to staunch the bleeding.

"What can I do?" she asked when she was able to return to Anders' side.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Anders replied tersely. "I need to stitch him up, but he's going into shock. You need to keep casting healing spells on him to keep him stabilized until I'm done."

"All right." After taking out a few mana potions from her pack, a wave of blue healing energy flared continuously from her fingertips while Anders quickly cleaned and stitched his wound.

Solana was astounded by the sudden change in Anders. The smirking, feckless mage she was used to was gone; replaced by a confident and capable healer calmly performing his duties in the heat of battle. Even worse, a quiet intimacy seemed to have developed between them as they worked in tandem to repair Nathaniel's injuries; their fingers brushed together more than once.

Anders' ponytail had come loose from its leather tie; she had to resist the urge to smooth the stray lock of silky blonde hair from his face.

By the time they were finished, both Anders and Solana were sweating and breathing heavily from their efforts; but Nathaniel was stabilized. Solana quickly fashioned a makeshift sling from length of linen cloth.

"We can't afford to linger, Warden," Oghren warned. "There'll be more of those buggers spawning right on top of us any second now."

"Perhaps it's better to leave me behind," Nathaniel gritted out painfully. "I'll only be a liability."

"And waste all that brilliant healing I just did? Besides," Anders drawled, leering at Oghren. "The dwarf is obviously desperate for you to suck his cock, and if that happens, I want to watch!"

"_Shut it_, sparkle fingers!" Oghren growled after turning a very interesting shade of red.

"No one gets left behind," Solana pronounced sternly, hiding a smile. "Now let's see if you can stand and lean on me, will you?"

* * *

_A/N: Yes, ended mid-scene, to be continued! I'm evil (just like twin-sister-in-evil, Shakespira) like that!_

_A gigantic thank you to b, my awesome beta who reviewed this chapter twice (yay for rewrites) and refines the story so brilliantly. Je t'adore!_

_A huge thank you to Shakespira, Nithu, kissychan1101, LampPostInWinter, Eva_Galena, jugalettePENNER, mixedaudio and BubblesScream-jahm4 for the lovely reviews. Each one is like a little kick in the butt to keep me motivated to write in a more timely (read: not once a month updates) fashion._

_Also, Thank you to everyone else who has read, favorited and alerted the story._

_The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware._


	5. Chapter 5

**The Light on the Shore  
**Chapter Five  
Location: The Blackmarsh

After binding up Nathaniel's wounds and instructing Anders to cast rejuvenation spells on the rogue at fixed intervals, Warden Commander Solana Amell had shouldered her pack, brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face, and trudged on.

His ex-lover was tough; Anders had to give her credit for that.

And he was certain he hadn't imagined the glances she'd slid at him through veiled lashes as they'd worked together to save Nathaniel; that spark of attraction definitely still existed between them. It'd taken every bit of his self control _not_ to tackle her to the ground, strip her bare, and bury his face between her thighs until she cried out his name.

In trying to will his rather substantial erection away, he distracted himself by thinking of most diplomatic way to tell Solana (without her setting his hair on fire) that they should keep their actions and tactics defensive; their main priority should be getting Nathaniel back to the Keep as soon as possible. However, Solana had again wrapped herself in that damned formidable mantle of reserve and likely would not relent until they found Kristoff. Sighing, he mentally counted the number of mana and healing pots left in his pack.

As time passed, however, the grueling journey began to taking its toll on everyone. Night was nearly upon them and it was getting _cold_.

Anders finally cleared his throat. "Solana?"

She frowned at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Perhaps we should stop for awhile?" Anders queried, shooting a meaningful glance at Nathaniel. Though the rogue carried himself with a stoic dignity, it was obvious he was beginning to tire.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "You two can stop talking about me as if I wasn't here. I'm fine."

"Actually, I could use something to eat," Solana replied with studied casualness. She pointed to a small, protected clearing. "We can rest there for a few hours."

Once they had settled in and a campfire had been built, Anders watched bemusedly as Solana shooed him away, then cleaned and dressed Nathaniel's wound herself. Solana rifled through her pack until she found her thick and warm woolen cloak and carefully wrapped it around the rogue's shoulders.

""I'm perfectly—" Nathaniel objected.

"Your cloak is _far_ too worn and thin," Solana replied severely; then pressed a mug of hot tea (that Anders had prepared) into his hands.

"I…" Nathaniel looked like he wanted to protest more.

Solana narrowed her eyes. "Consider it a _direct order_."

Nathaniel seemed to realize that arguing was futile. "Thank you, Commander," he said gruffly.

Solana nodded, then thanked Oghren absently when he handed her a hunk of way bread and her own mug of tea.

Anders frowned when he noticed that Solana's attempts to not shiver, despite the fact she was sitting near the fire. Without another word, he draped his own (very warm) cloak over her.

Solana shook her head. "There's no need to—"

Anders sent her a mock glare. "You don't think I know that was your only cloak?" he murmured so the others wouldn't overhear.

Her gaze immediately turned wary. "What kind of game are you trying to playing here?"

He raised an eyebrow at her tone. "I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," Anders replied derisively.

"These little acts of kindness that are _supposed_ to be _cute_," she hissed, "but they're just plain _mean_."

His temper spiked, but Anders kept it under control. It wouldn't do to get into a shouting match now. "I was merely showing you the same consideration you showed Nathaniel," he said calmly.

Solana snorted in disbelief.

_Now_ she was seriously beginning to piss him off. "Why won't you let me—"

"What's going on there?" Oghren demanded suddenly, interrupting their argument. "Sparklefingers giving you trouble, Commander?"

Anders raised an eyebrow at Oghren. "Nothing is _wrong_, dwarf," Anders declared languidly. "We were merely engaged in a spirited discussion over the merits of linen bandages, weren't we, Commander?"

Oghren stared suspiciously at the pair until Solana stiffly nodded her agreement. "Sodding mages always getting into a hissy fit over _something or nothing_," the dwarf mumbled to himself.

Solana abruptly stood and stalked away into the darkness.

* * *

Eventually Nathaniel's pallor had improved enough that Anders deemed him well enough to continue travelling. They spent another hour of trudging through the miserable swamp, eventually stumbling upon the grim remains of Kristoff.

"Maker's fucking breath!" Solana burst out angrily. "Why didn't I get here earlier?"

Anders knelt beside her and eyed the body. "He looks like he's been dead for at least a week."

Solana crossed her arms defensively and shook her head. "If I'd let Varel take care of the Keep business and we'd set out here immediately, maybe he wouldn't have—"

Despite their earlier argument, Anders found himself laying his hand on her shoulder. "You can't blame yourself," Anders said sympathetically.

"Whoever did this is going to _pay dearly_," Solana muttered venomously. She jerked away from him and glared. "Keep your mind on the task at hand."

"_Maker's breath_, you are the most _frustrating_—" Anders gritted out. However, when Oghren suddenly drew his sword and shifted into a battle stance, Anders immediately became alert; a spark of blue lightning flared from his fingertips.

A smirking darkspawn stepped out of the shadows. "Ahh," it sneered. "The Mother said you'd come if we killed this one and—OOF!"

Anders fought not to laugh as the darkspawn was knocked hard on its ass, courtesy of Solana's _Stone Fist_ spell.

"You will be paying for that!" The First howled in protest, but then his expression turned sly. "_The Mother_, she sends you a gift." He held out his palm and from a strange looking device: a murky stream of gas poured forth. The Wardens began to cough and one by one, they collapsed. Anders valiantly tried to hold his breath as tears streamed from his eyes, but his world too, went dark.

* * *

Anders opened his eyes blearily, and then quickly heaved himself up at the sight of the grey, surreal landscape. _Maker's breath_, they were stuck in the Fade!

Even worse, that talking darkspawn who called himself _The First_, was trapped with them and angrily ranting about how _The Mother_ had betrayed him. "This was not as s_he_ said! Now I am betrayed! Entrapped in the Fade with you!" it howled in rage.

A quick glance confirmed that his companions were none the worse for wear and in the process of waking up.

"Like you couldn't see this coming from a mile away?" Solana muttered as she dusted herself off.

"I am The First! I am not being expendable! I will be leaving and finding a way out, then I will be coming after the Grey Wardens and The Mother!" He bellowed, and then ran off.

"You owe me ten sovereigns," Oghren said, smirking.

Solana only rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, yeah. Let's keep moving, then."

Anders eyed her in disbelief. She was being awfully calm for being trapped in the Fade. Did she not remember her Harrowing, and the dangers awaiting them? He shook his head, but held his peace.

They traveled through the Fade at a grueling pace; defeating multiple demons and deactivating magical devices that maintained the tears in the Veil. Eventually, they came upon a group of villagers and a Spirit from the Fade who was angrily banging of the gates of the main estate of Blackmarsh. They seemed to be calling for justice from a being called the _The Baroness_.

"Will you help us, travelers?" The Fade Spirit asked.

"Of course," Solana replied calmly, as if she'd just been asked to dance the Remigold at a ball.

Anders' frayed sense of control was beginning to unravel. Was she insane? Common sense dictated they escape this damned prison expediently, with no complications. "Wait a minute. I…can we talk?"

She nodded and they moved a little distance away from everyone.

"Defeat a pride demon by ourselves? Are you kidding me?" Anders asked in disbelief.

Solana frowned. "What's the problem?"

"Nathaniel is injured and we have our own problems to worry about. Why must we have to add _battling _a pride demon to the list?"

"It's the right thing to—"

"_Maker's breath_! You've agreed to solve the problems of every bloody soul in Amaranthine!" He declared fervently. "Is your sense of duty so great that you are willing to sacrifice those under your command for it?"

Solana's eyes darkened with temper. "The Baroness was supposed to _protect_ her people. Instead she used them for her own selfish purposes and abandoned them without a second glance. I'll not stand by and let that happen to them!"

There was no point in arguing with her. It was his duty to obey her orders, after all, regardless of personal feelings. He nodded stiffly. "As you wish, _Commander_."

Solana stared at him intently; the panic in his eyes seemed to melt the anger in hers. "What's really bothering you?"

How could he even begin to tell her that through the tide of unrelenting change and instability, she had remained a fixed point in his life; _his_ lodestar? How it only took one glance into those calm, dark brown eyes of hers and he knew everything would be all right? And how he risked losing it all if something were to happen and he couldn't save her?

He opened his mouth to say something, anything; but his normally glib tongue seem to have deserted him. "I...couldn't bear it if something terrible happened." _To you_, he amended silently.

She tilted her head and continued to study him, then surprised them both by taking his face into her hands and stared intently at him with those expressive, dark brown eyes. "You _need_ to _trust me_." His eyes widened at her unexpectedly tender tone. "Can you do that?"

Anders' thudding heart twisted. At that very second, he swore he would follow her to the ends of Thedas and back again, if she asked him to.

"Anders?" Solana was staring at him, patiently waiting for a response.

He nodded. "All right."

The Baroness stepped out and crossed her arms. "So!" she remarked scornfully. "The peasants and this…_pathetic excuse_ of a Spirit have found some allies! Well, you aren't the only one!"

Unsurprisingly, _The First_ came and stood by his new mistress.

"Prove your worth to me and kill them, Darkspawn!" _The Baroness_ demanded.

"As you command!"

"Keep an eye on Nathaniel," Solana murmured to Anders.

Anders nodded as Oghren and the First circled each other warily. Sword clashed with axe and shield as the Fade Spirit added his warrior skills to the mix. Solana swiftly transformed into a large, black grizzly bear and charged into the fray.

* * *

After successfully defeating the First _and_ the Baroness, in the end, it was a very long trudge back to Vigil's Keep. Anders glanced at their newest party member in consternation. It seemed so _unnatural_ that a spirit from the Fade (even a non-evil one) possessing the body of a man long-dead walk amongst them. Yet Solana had immediately accepted Justice (as the being called himself) as one of their own.

_Yet another lost soul she couldn't resist saving_, he thought. _I suppose I count as one as well._

Anders cast a quick rejuvenation spell upon Nathaniel to give him a boost of energy as they neared the gates of the Keep.

"Ah, my dear Warden! I see you have been quite busy in my absence." A shadowed figure suddenly appeared, revealing himself as a tattooed elf, with golden skin and a mischievous grin on his face, leaning indolently against the Keep wall.

Anders stepped protectively in front of Solana, but she waved him away.

"Zevran!" Solana cried out joyfully and flung herself into the elf's waiting embrace.

"Bloody nughumpers," Oghren muttered. "_Get a room_, you two."

* * *

_Yeah this chapter has been stewing in my brain since January. It was very difficult to write, but I'm glad I finally got it done._

_Much kudos to b and g, my kick arse betas, for the live-saving edits!_

_A hearty thank you to fifespice, LibraMoon, Zoe Whiteraven, Shakespira, Nithu, Eva Galena, LampPostInWinter and jugalettePENNER for the reviews! It is much appreciated! Thanks also to everyone who has read, favorited, or alerted the story._

___The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware._


	6. Chapter 6

**The Story of Us**

Location: The Arling of Amaranthine

Moments after returning to Vigil's Keep, a score of people had converged upon Solana, clamoring for her attention. Feeling completely overwhelmed, she'd only stared blankly at them until Varel whisked her away and escorted her to her quarters. She'd barely had time to bathe and don a clean gown, when Mistress Woolsey was knocking impatiently at her door, claiming there were urgent matters that needed to be addressed immediately.

With a sigh and a mumbled promise of _later _to Zevran, she'd headed to her office with Woolsey in tow. Hours later, she was still playing catch up with the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated in her absence. Taking a break, she rolled her shoulders in an attempt to ease her stiff, aching muscles.

_Anders_. She shivered at the memory of his fingertips brushing against her neck when he'd draped his cloak around her. It would be all too easy to allow the reins slip and let herself be swept away by his burning passion. Nor had she missed his astonished expression when she'd run into Zevran's arms as if she had somehow betrayed him. However, she would not allow herself to feel guilty for moving on, not after he'd abandoned her without a second glance.

The first tendrils of dawn had begun to streak their way through the dissipating darkness. Solana had begun to doze off, but jolted awake when she heard her door creak open. She barely caught a blur of movement before she was jerked from her chair and found herself being pressed against a very warm and muscular body.

"Zevran!" She gasped as the rogue's hand boldly cupped her breast, his thumb stroking over a nipple. She moaned as her head fell back against his shoulder; it felt so good to close her eyes and simply _feel safe_. Becoming Zevran's lover during the Blight had been a soothing balm for her bruised ego; he'd been amused by her immediate attempt to limit the scope of their relationship. "_We are to be polyamorous?"_ he'd chuckled as she glared at him indignantly. "_In Antiva we call that business as usual, cara_." However, he'd been an attentive and steadfast companion and remained one of the few she trusted implicitly.

"I'm sorry," she murmured fondly, and turned her face towards his for a kiss. "However can I make it up to you?"

"Oh, I'm sure I can think of a few things." Zevran took her hand, led her to a nearby chaise lounge and sat down, pulling her into his lap. "I've missed you, my Warden." His sexy voice rumbled pleasantly in her ear.

She nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "I've missed you, too."

A loud and perfunctory knock had her squirming to escape Zevran's embrace, but the rogue kept his arms locked firmly around her. The door suddenly banged open and Anders entered the room. "Solana, do you have a minute to—"

"Ah, _Gerald_, is it?" Zevran purred, his hand possessively caressing the curve of Solana's hip.

Solana inwardly winced and braced herself for the worst—Anders had never been one to do (or react to) _anything_ by half-measures.

Surprisingly, the mage remained self-composed; the only noticeable tension evident were his clenched fists. ""It's _Anders_. My apologies for the interruption. I'll return _later_." Executing a half-bow, he spun on his heel and exited the room.

"Maker's bloody breath," Solana muttered. "Did you have to do that?"

"He's the one who abandoned you, yes?" Zevran's eyes glittered with amusement. "Do not _worry_, _cara_. A little competition never hurt anyone."

She buried her face in her hands. "I should probably go and-"

Zevran shook his head. "Let him go, Solana."

"I know, but—"

"There will be time enough for tending to his wounded pride later, _amora_. For now, I believe there are much more pressing matters." She could feel just exactly what that _matter_ was, pressing hotly against her thigh. "It has been far, far too long, my Warden," he murmured, just before his lips captured hers, and all thoughts of Anders fled from her mind.

* * *

As days passed, it seemed her initial instincts regarding Anders were spot on: he began avoiding her at all costs, even going so far as to play hooky from the regularly scheduled meetings Solana had with her Wardens every few days. Rumor had it that Anders now spent his most of his days visiting the outlying villages near the Keep, offering his services as a healer to those in need. The rest of the time he spent long hours with Nathaniel in the courtyard, learning the finer points of hand-to-hand combat. Consequently (and much to the delight of the maids) Anders developed lean and muscled physique. His demeanour, formerly cheerful and easygoing, had subtly shifted to intense and moody (which somehow only delighted the maids even more).

Solana knew she'd have to step in at some point and talk to him, but she didn't have the heart to chastise him.

Things came to a head on the morning they were supposed meet at the Keep's front gates to embark on another mission. When she arrived at the appointed time, Nathaniel and Oghren were there, but Anders was nowhere to be found.

After an interminable fifteen minutes of impatient foot-scuffling and repeated throat clearings (by everyone), Solana finally broke the silence with a sigh. "We'll have to postpone the trip to the City until later. I don't suppose either of you know where he went?"

Nathaniel looked thoughtful for a moment. "I believe he went to attend a birth in Buckland," referring to a tiny hamlet situated a few miles from the Keep.

"You gonna have a _talk_ with Anders, Commander?" Oghren intoned slyly.

"Thank you, Nathaniel." Solana sent the dwarf a withering glare. "_Dismissed_."

Solana returned to her office and got back to work. It was late afternoon when a servant came to inform her that Anders had returned. "Let the Wardens know we are leaving for the City of Amaranthine _immediately_."

"Yes, my Lady," the servant replied. He bowed and left the room.

They made good time travelling to the City of Amaranthine, and took rooms at the Crown & Lion Inn for the night. Solana tossed her satchel onto the bed and hurried to catch Anders before he went back downstairs to the tap room. Luck was on her side, for Anders passed her just as she stepped into the hallway.

"Anders? Can we talk for a moment?"

He looked at her warily. "I suppose."

He followed her back into her room and she closed the door. She took a breath. _Time to take the bull by the horns._

"We were supposed to leave for the City at eight bells this morning, yet you didn't bother to show up. _This_ needs to stop."

Anders crossed his arms defensively and glared. "It was a breech birth. The mother would've died without my intervention. Are you saying getting that to the city on time was more important than this poor woman's life?"

"That wasn't what I meant, and you know it. You've been neglecting your duties as a Grey Warden."

He shook his head vehemently. "I can't ignore my patients, they need me!" His eyes flashed dangerously and he took a step towards her. "But that doesn't matter does it? Since the only that you care about is my skill as a healer and how it benefits _you_, isn't that what told me once?"

She shut her eyes briefly. She would not lose her temper. She would not show _any emotion _in his presence. Silently counting to three, she folded her hands in front of her and gazed at him calmly. "I need to know that I can still rely on you."

"Fine! I'll be sure to obey all of your orders and placidly follow wherever you lead, oh _Mighty One!_ Anything else? No? Well good, I'm so glad we had this little chat, because_ I feel so much_ _better now_!" he spat. "Am I _dismissed now,_ Warden Commander?"

She nodded and he stomped out of the room.

* * *

After they'd all assembled, Solana's first order of business was to rid the city of its smugglers, who'd grown greedy, arrogant and increasingly violent. They travelled through the City, talking to the patrolling guardsmen. Solana tried asking the locals for information, but was only met with fearful silence. They finally caught a break when a smart-mouthed, cheeky urchin she'd tossed a sovereign to gave her the name of a tavern the leader was known to frequent. As they made their way through the marketplace, Solana also had her hands full trying to put off the multitude of people who kept approaching her, intent on begging for some favor or another.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Anders hurrying towards a disreputable looking elven woman to converse with her briefly. Anders handed her some coin, then nonchalantly made his way back to the group.

Solana raised an eyebrow at Anders. "Who was that woman you were talking with?"

Anders gave her an innocent look. "No one of significance. Just some orphan who was down on her luck and needed some coin."

Solana stared at him suspiciously. "She was a bit old for an orphan."

"Commander!" Nathaniel yelled suddenly. "I've spotted him!"

Solana cursed under her breath. She'd have to get to the bottom of this later. "Let's move."

After a lengthy chase and several skirmishes, Solana located their hideout outside of the city and the Wardens dispatched the smugglers with a minimum of fuss. Operating unopposed for so long had made them careless. Solana was tired and dusty from the long day, and looked forward to an evening in. She assumed Oghren, Anders and Nathaniel would stay up late into the night, drinking and bullshitting**,** as was their wont.

Fresh from a long, hot bath and enjoying a glass of fine Antivan brandy, Solana was just about to slide into the comfy bed when there was a sudden knock at her door. She sighed, abandoning the bed to open the door. It was the same cheeky urchin from before, relating some very interesting information. Her eyes widened at his news and she rewarded the boy with another silver.

"Thank you, my lady!" He declared fervently.

She quickly dressed, grabbed her staff and hurried into the night, making her way to the warehouse the urchin had indicated. Dashing inside, she found Anders and Oghren mid-fight with Rylock, of all people, several Templars at her side.

"Give him up, Commander!" Rylock shouted. "You're better off without him!"

"Over my _dead body!_" Solana declared heatedly.

"Of course you mages _would_ stick together," Rylock sneered. "Kill her!" She commanded the Templars.

Solana immediately shifted into a bear, and the tide of battle quickly changed in the Wardens' favor. Within minutes, all the Templars had fled. Only Rylock was left, and as she realized the odds were stacked against her, she too made a hasty exit. Oghren began to chase after them, but Solana motioned for him to stop. "No point in chasing after them. It's over."

Anders' jaw dropped in shock. "You had us followed?"

"Of course I had you followed! Do I look like I just fell off the turnip cart?" Solana snapped peevishly. "What were you thinking, running off to fight the Templars in the middle of the night?"

"I was trying to retrieve my phylactery," Anders muttered resentfully.

Solana folded her arms and eyed him coolly. "I don't care what you were searching after. From now on I'm the _first_ person you come to!"

"What?"

"From now on, if you get into trouble, you tell me first, and don't try to claim you thought there wouldn't be any, because you brought _them_ along," She jerked her head towards Oghren and Nathaniel (who looked on guiltily). I'm your first line of defense against the Templars and the Chantry! You have to let me protect you!"

"You mean protect your _assets_," he retorted. "Maker forbid, I not be there to heal you if you stub your toe!"

She couldn't take it anymore. "You broke my heart once to gain your freedom," she said quietly. "Is it really worth trampling on the feelings of those who care for you in order to get what you want?"

She'd hoped for an answer but Anders only stared at her with a stricken expression. "I guess that answers my question." With a sad smile, she turned away and left the warehouse.

* * *

_Much much gratitude to my betas b and g, especially b, because she is brilliant and awesome and saved my life! No seriously, she really did._

_A hearty thank you to Zoe Whiteraven, Shakespira, Nithu, LampPostInWinter, serenbach, jugalettePENNER and KCousland for the reviews! It is much appreciated! Thanks also to everyone who has read, favorited, or alerted the story._

**___The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware._  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Be Still**

Chapter 7

Location: The Arling of Amaranthine

* * *

Hoisted by his own petard._ Bloody hell._

Despite breaking her heart once, Warden Commander Solana Amell had taken Anders in, given him his freedom and a purpose; more importantly, he was treated with dignity and respect. All he had to do was what he loved best: healing the injured and sick (and cast the occasional lightning bolt) to his heart's content. Shouldn't that be enough for him?

But no, he had to go ahead and fall head-over-heels in love (for real this time) with her, pining after her like a lovesick goat. However, she'd already moved on, found someone else. The mere thought of that _elf_ touching her made him sick to his stomach. Solana would never allow him another chance or let him apologize. He might as well have tried to touch the moon. Jealousy and frustration had driven him to avoid her, to the point where he began neglecting his duties as a Grey Warden. And she'd chewed his ass out for it. He wasn't sure which was worse, the fact that she was right or the pitying looks that Oghren and Nathaniel were currently shooting at him.

"What are you waiting for, Sparklefingers? Go talk to her!" Oghren exclaimed, interrupting his reverie. "You gotta mount the bronto while it's hot!"

"I think you mean _strike while the iron is hot_, dwarf." Nathaniel replied in amusement (he was always happy for a chance to correct Oghren).

Anders ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Andraste's _tits_, what am I supposed to say?"

"Grovel, kiss her ass, do _something_. When a woman walks away from you like that, you _always_ follow after her!" Oghren rumbled enthusiastically.

"I can't believe I'm considering advice from_ you_, of all people," Anders mumbled.

"Can't help it if I have a way with the ladies," Oghren said with a laugh, then gave Anders an encouraging shove that nearly sent him sprawling to the ground. "Besides, I've had lots of practice with Felsi getting mad at me all the time."

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire_,_" Anders muttered as he exited the warehouse. However, he did take comfort in the fact that she'd finally mentioned _something_ of her personal feelings about what had happened between them. Sighing, he tightened his grip on his staff and broke into an easy jog back towards the Inn. As he was about to round the final corner, he caught sight of Solana walking with Zevran, who had his arm draped around her shoulders.

"It is amusing to listen to you defend a mage who broke your heart and continues to defy your commands," Zevran was saying.

"You are incorrigible," Solana retorted, swatting at him affectionately.

Zevran suddenly whirled and stepped protectively in front of Solana, keeping his daggers within easy reach. "It appears we _have_ _company_, my dear Warden," Zevran said silkily, glaring at Anders with ill-concealed animosity.

She glanced at Anders warily. "What's wrong?"

"I need to speak with you." Anders cleared his throat. "In private," he added meaningfully.

"Do you not think that perhaps your _Commander_ has had a full and eventful day without more pointless prattle?" The rogue asked sardonically.

Solana placed her hand on Zevran's arm. "It's all right. Just give us a moment, please?"

Zevran nodded**,** his expression opaque. "Your wish," he replied, and dutifully moved a respectable distance away.

When Zevran had left and they were finally alone, Solana crossed her arms and looked at Anders expectantly. "All right. What did you need to speak about?"

"I-not here." He took her arm and led her into a building's recessed doorway, which afforded them a modicum of privacy. "Did you mean what you said back there?"

She arched an eyebrow. "I say many things."

"Back at the warehouse, you said you cared about me," he asked in exasperation. "Is that true?"

He stared at her intently; searching her face for any sign of emotion, but her eyes remained calm and expressionless, like that of a china porcelain doll.

"I care about the welfare of _everyone_ I am responsible for," she responded with grave dignity. "Now was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

For some reason, the fact that her hands were always clasped together so neatly _really pissed him off_.

"You really are the _damned Ice Queen_," he muttered, referring to the moniker bestowed upon her by her fellow mages back at the Tower. He took grim satisfaction in watching her eyes flash briefly with temper. "I'm not blind! I know you still have feelings for me. Yet you keep me in this damned cage where you kill me with kindness, but you won't let me make amends! I _ache_ for you, Solana. Tell me what I have to do to break through this damned aloofness of yours!"

"Don't mistake gratitude for affection," she replied coolly.

Infuriated by her lack of response, he grasped her shoulders and dragged her against his muscled body; using all of his considerable skill to kiss and caress her until she gasped in pleasure. "I'm sorry I hurt you. No, don't push me away," he murmured into her ear as he pressed kisses to her face and traced the outline of her ear with his tongue.

"Don't." Her eyes had become damp with tears, but she firmly removed herself from his embrace. "Stay where you are," she commanded breathlessly.

He stared at her, baffled. "Why?"

She shook her head. "There's a rational explanation for this," she said tightly. "Your life has been changing faster than you can manage. You're angry and scared, but fall in love with me and suddenly things don't seem so bad." She crossed her arms defensively, as if that would ward her from harm. "It's not fair to use my heart like this, and you know it. So please stop."

Because what she said contained at least a grain of truth, his temper flared. "This is about that Antivan, isn't it? _He_ tries to kill you and you spread your legs for him, but you won't let me _apologize!_ Un-fucking-believable!" He regretted his words the instant they flew out of his mouth.

She slapped him hard, her eyes angry. "This is _exactly_ what I'm talking about, Anders!" She took a calming breath, but her fists remained clenched. "It's not good for me, for you**,** or for the Order. So knock it off!"

He moved forward to take her into his arms again. "I'm sorry-"

"My dear Warden, I do believe you have kept me waiting long enough," a new voice interrupted them. It was Zevran.

Solana grasped the rogue's arm as if he were a lifeline**,** and surreptitiously wiped at her eyes. "Yes**,** I believe I have. My apologies. Let us be off, then."

Zevran's eyes were hard as he sized Anders up, but Solana pulled at him impatiently, and they were gone.

* * *

Anders had spent the rest of the night in some nameless dive, nursing the same pint of bitter and staring moodily at the wall. Solana had shown him nothing but mercy and kindness**,** patiently rescuing him from the endless scrapes he seemed to get himself into. And how had he repaid her? By raging at her, then practically forcing his attentions upon her. Oh yes, and he'd called her a whore too. _Way to go, Anders._

The slightly sympathetic barkeep finally kicked him out at six bells, and he'd stumbled back to his room at the Crown & Lion Inn to try and get some sleep. He'd dropped his gear on the floor, and fallen face first into the bed. After a few minutes of self-indulgent moaning, he'd barely managed to heave his legs onto the bed when there was a loud knock at his door. The door banged open and Oghren sauntered in. "Move your ass, Sparkles," he said gruffly. "Commander says we need to get a move on."

Anders grunted and tried to ignore the dwarf by burrowing his face further into the pillow.

"At least you're already dressed," Oghren added brightly. "Commander says I can't leave until you do, so up and at 'em!"

"I'll be there in a minute," Anders grumbled.

Rubbing at his eyes tiredly, Anders splashed water on his face and pulled his blond hair into its customary ponytail. He picked his staff and satchel, then headed to Solana's room (with Oghren following behind). Solana had already begun speaking to everyone who had already gathered.

"The Dark Wolf has stated that there are some Banns who are plotting against us are meeting at a nearby farm hold. We need to intercept them; I'd like to capture and interrogate them, but I have the feeling they won't go quietly. Any questions?" When no one spoke up, Solana nodded briskly. "Let's be off, then."

After a short march, the Wardens reached their destination. They were quickly spotted and immediately set upon by the conspirators, but the treacherous nobles proved to be no match for the Wardens.

Afterwards, Anders suddenly felt dizzy, and shook his head to try and clear it.

"Incoming darkspawn!" Solana shouted. "Stay vigilant!" Not a moment later, a large group of darkspawn suddenly appeared, and immediately began attacking them.

Oghren, Zevran and Solana immediately charged into the fray, while Nathaniel rained arrows the enemy. Anders stayed in the rear (having learned his lesson), and while he shot the occasional arcane bolt, mostly stood ready to heal his party members. The fighting was intense and furious; and ensuing waves of darkspawn forced the Wardens to spread out. Anders found himself having to run back and forth between different locations to keep everyone sufficiently healed.

He suddenly noticed that Solana had become isolated from everyone else while battling a large group of darkspawn. Most of the enemy lay dead around her, but it was obvious she'd been wounded and was quickly tiring. She'd need help.

A massive roar heralded the sudden presence of an ogre, who immediately fixated on Solana. Breathing heavily, she quickly transformed into a bear and charged the ogre head-on, knocking him over. She immediately attacked the ogre again, but the ogre quickly got up, grabbed her and hefted her against a wall with a sickening thud. She transformed back into human form, and tried to get up, only to collapse again.

The ogre then lumbered towards Solana, presumably to finish her off. Anders quickly cast a healing spell upon Solana, followed by a rejuvenating spell, in the hopes that it would revive her, but no such luck. Everyone else was too far away or occupied to step in to help.

Anders knew he had to act quickly. He could unleash a high amount of magical damage, but he couldn't be sure if it would finish the ogre off quickly. And with no one else to divert the ogre's attention away from Anders, he ran the risk of becoming a permanent blood stain in the dirt. Yet he could stand still no longer.

"Nathaniel! Oghren!" he yelled. "Get over here!"

Summoning a massive lightning charge, he loosed it at the ogre, which struck the ogre's chest dead center. The ogre howled in pain, but he continued to hurl damaging magical spells at it. With its attention now fully on Anders, the maddened ogre lowered his head then charged him, goring him in the process. The wickedly curved horns ripped through his robe, rending flesh and muscle, and opening a huge tear across his midsection. Anders felt a sickening tug as its horn hooked under one of his ribs, lifting him off his feet and shaking him back and forth like a dog worrying at a bone. It finally lifted Anders bodily and threw him to land in a crumpled heap.

"Anders!" Solana had somehow gotten back up and began attacking the ogre again. By now, Oghren and Nathaniel had spotted the ogre and circled around to finish it off, so Solana ran to Anders' side.

He lay curled on the ground like a broken doll, deathly white.

Anders gasped in pain as her fingers touched him. "I guess I should've moved out of the way sooner," he gritted out.

"You foolish mage," Solana muttered as she applied firm pressure to the wound and cast a healing spell. "I'm going to make sure you get well, and then I'm going to kill you myself."

The goring had been savage. He knew he was going into shock, and was losing blood quickly. There was a high probability he wouldn't make it through. If the blood loss didn't kill him, infection surely would. A great and heavy darkness began pressing upon him from all sides. He tried to tell her how he felt, to apologize for his hurtful words, but his mouth wouldn't work properly. Perhaps he deserved this fate; he wasn't worthy of her.

His last thoughts were of her dark chocolate brown eyes, peering at him in furrowed concentration and he gratefully welcomed the dark oblivion that enveloped him.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to g and b, my awesome betas! Especially b, who took a massively retarded chapter and helped to shape it into something better. You seriously are the best, my dear!_

_Thank you to everyone who has read, favorited and alerted this story! I appreciate feedback and reviews (especially from Shakespira, jugalettePENNER, serenbach and Zoe Whiteraven: thanks for hanging in there with me) it keeps me motivated to continue writing, seriously._

___The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**No Air**

Location: Vigil's Keep

* * *

The sight of Anders lying bloodied and broken on the ground had left Solana paralyzed with panic and disbelief.

_This can't be happening._

_What was he thinking, taking on an ogre by himself?_

_But he saved my life._

_Do something! Anything! _

_If he dies, it'll be my fault._

Cursing under her breath, Solana viciously tamped down on her tumultuous emotions and knelt beside Anders.

"Nathaniel!" She yelled as she gingerly probed the injury. "Go find something we can use to get Anders back to the Keep!"

"At once." His expression grim, Nathaniel hurried off to find suitable transportation.

Solana pulled a length of clean linen cloth from her pack, and carefully covered the wound. She could only lay claim to a fraction of the talent that Anders possessed with healing arts; it took every ounce of her skill and determination just to concentrate on repairing the worst of the damage and stopping the internal bleeding. However, the air was thick with dust and the wound had likely been contaminated. The risk of infection remained high.

By the time Nathaniel returned with a commandeered horse and wagon, Anders was almost stabilized.

"I need a lyrium potion, please," Solana asked shakily.

"Here you are, my Warden." Zevran had already uncorked a glass vial and held it to Solana's lips as she greedily gulped the liquid down. After casting one final healing spell, Solana sat back on her haunches and wiped the sweat from her brow.

She looked around wearily at her surroundings. "We still need—"

"Already way ahead of you, Commander!" Oghren declared as he dragged a long, flat board he'd found and laid it next to Anders.

Between Oghren, Zevran and Nathaniel, they managed to gently move Anders onto the board. Solana immediately ascended after Anders had been placed securely in the wagon and sat next to him.

"Let's move out!" Solana ordered once everyone else had hopped in the wagon**,** and Nathaniel took up the reins.

* * *

Once back at the Keep, a gigantic commotion ensued when the denizens realized their beloved healer had been gravely injured. Anders was quickly transported to his room with a minimum of fuss. Dozens of servants, led by Moira, their arms laden with towels and buckets of hot water followed behind him.

When everything had been set up, Moira banished everyone except for Solana and Zevran from the room. A steady blue healing light flared from her fingertips as Solana began the long and arduous task of carefully healing Ander's remaining injuries. Two hours later, she was weak and sweaty, but Anders' wound had been repaired and carefully bandaged. When she tried to get up, Solana wove uncertainly, and would've collapsed if Zevran hadn't caught her.

"_Cara_," Zevran murmured with concern, "Perhaps you should take a break? A hot meal and a bath would do wonders for you."

"I'm fine," she insisted, shrugging away from the rogue. She ignored the pointed glance that Moira and Zevran exchanged.

"My Lady," Moira ventured diplomatically. "_I_ could watch over him while you rest. Surely it wouldn't hurt—"

Solana whirled around and fixed them both with a cool glare that could've frozen water at ten paces. "You don't _understand! _I can't rest; I'm the only one standing between him and death! So either you follow my orders or _get out!_"

A terse silence ensued as Zevran and Moira stared at her in shock.

Solana collapsed in the chair next to Anders' bed, her face buried in her hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"I'll... I'll bring some tea and a tray for you then, my Lady." Moira curtseyed and left the room with all due haste.

Zevran opened his mouth to say something, but only sighed. "Of course not, _cara_." He ruffled her hair gently. "I will be here if you need me, my Warden," he reminded her, then silently made his exit as well.

Solana felt a twinge of regret for snapping at Zev and Moira. However, she couldn't explain to anyone (least of all, herself) why she felt so responsible for Anders getting injured. She would not allow anyone to _die_ on her watch. She would have to apologize to them later. Squaring her shoulders, she sat back down and resolved to stay keep vigil over him until he recovered.

* * *

Some hours later, Anders finally stirred.

"You're awake," Solana breathed in relief.

Anders blinked. "Wha—" His voice creaked.

Propping his head up with her arm, she brought a glass filled with a dubiously colored liquid to his lips. "Drink this," she said softly.

Anders choked when the liquid hit his throat. "Damn it, Solana-" he sputtered.

"_Drink it_," she repeated in the same unyielding tone.

Anders managed to swallow some of the liquid, and then leaned his head weakly against the pillow. "What was in that concoction?" He rasped.

"It's something to help ease the pain," was all she would say.

"Admit it," Anders grunted out as Solana deftly began to change his dressing. "You've been gazing at my naked body for _hours_."

She huffed out a reluctant laugh. "You're making jokes now?"

"I should lie here and moan dramatically in pain instead? How about we play doctor? I'll be the patient, which is pretty handy since I'm already lying here, and I could tell you that I have this bad ache between my... _shiiiiiiiiiit_.. .that hurts-"

His eyes were closed tightly, his mouth bracketed with lines of pain.

She allowed her hand to brush his brow as she cast a sleep spell over him. Slowly, his body relaxed. Solana sighed as she sat back down, then jolted as Anders hand suddenly gripped hers.

"Don't leave me," he mumbled.

She squeezed his hand gently. "I won't leave you."

* * *

The hours blurred into days and Anders' condition failed to improve. Other than allowing herself a brief respite every few days to bathe and change her clothes, Solana remained diligently at Anders' side. She alone could make him swallow his wretched-tasting medicine, and seemed to rest more easily in her presence. While he slept, Solana caught up on her paperwork and correspondence.

At some point she must have fallen asleep**,** as a swift knock at the door roused her.

"Come," she called out quietly.

Nathaniel walked in. "How is he?"

Solana sighed. "I'm worried. The wound isn't healing as it should."

Nathaniel glanced pointedly at the piles of paperwork. "It wouldn't hurt you to get some rest as well."

She shook her head stubbornly. "If he has an infection, I need to be here to see him through it."

"Solana." Nathaniel imbued a gentle note of command into his voice. "You don't have to bear this burden alone. Let me help you. You're not the only one going mad with the waiting."

Solana rubbed at her eyes tiredly. "I-I suppose I could use some help with this paperwork. There're still the trade agreements with the Bannorn to deal with-"

"Consider it done."

"You have to be tough when you deal with Bann Stephenson, you know," she commented with a raised brow. "He'll say he wants to talk about his shareholds, but all he really cares about is water usage rights of the Drakon River. You have to-"

"Don't worry, Commander. I know what I'm doing," Nathaniel replied in amusement.

"Of course. Thank you."

"Try to get some rest, Commander," Nathaniel chided gently as he left the room.

Solana nodded distractedly, but her mind was already on the next course of treatment for Anders.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to b, my totally excellent beta! _

_Chapter 8 originally was a behemoth of a chapter, which I split into 2 parts, and now for some reason this turned out really short. But don't worry, chapter 9 should be a way meatier (and angstier) chapter and should be upcoming shortly!_

_Thank you to everyone who has read, favorited and alerted this story! I appreciate feedback and reviews (especially from Shakespira, Eva_Galena, serenbach, Obscura_Wilde, trilliumg, and TheEvilDog: thanks for hanging in there with me) it keeps me motivated to continue writing, seriously._

___The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Violet Hour

Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine

* * *

Anders wasn't getting any better.

Solana had taken up the challenge of nursing Anders back to health on her own. She'd banished everyone else from the sickroom and spent many laborious hours dressing his wound and spoon-feeding him water and beef broth - sickroom fare (that mostly ended up spilled down the front of her tunic, though she at least managed to get him to swallow a few spoonfuls of both) - at regular intervals. She changed his soiled bed linens and gave him sponge baths to keep him clean and cool. By the time she'd managed to finish it all, it was time to do it all over again.

The days and nights blurred together as she continued to attend to him with quiet, steady determination; it was as if she almost believed she alone could heal him by strength of will. Instead of resting in the few moments of downtime she did have, she would sit next to him, put on her spectacles, and read aloud to him. As a result, Solana became pale and exhausted, which she compensated for by drinking endless cups of coffee. It was imperative that she remain alert in case of any sudden change to his condition. Moira finally browbeat her into bathing and changing her clothes, but Solana refused to stray from Anders' side for more than a few minutes at a time.

Despite her best efforts, Solana watched with dismay as Anders' wound remained swollen and angry. He developed a fever and began to ramble incoherently; oftentimes he shouted and cursed, obviously reliving the abuse he suffered at the hands of the Templars. Some of the things he'd revealed made her weep in outrage. No amount of soothing or hand-holding would calm him down, until during one particularly violent nightmare, Solana, too weary to do anything else, simply crawled into bed with him.

"No!" Anders cried, flinging his arms out wildly, as if to protect himself from some assailant. His eyes were wide with horror, but it was clear he wasn't seeing her.

"Shhhhhhhh... I'm here." Solana murmured, nestling against him. His hair felt like silk under her fingertips when she brushed a stray wisp of hair from his forehead.

She squeaked in surprise when she found herself suddenly flipped onto her back. Anders' expression was feral as he straddled her legs, grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. He'd managed to reopen his wound, as blood and discharge began to heavily stain the bandages.

"Anders," she croaked. "What are you-?"

"You will torture me no more!" he snarled. His eyes were fever bright and he glared daggers at her, as though she were Rylock herself.

She tried to wiggle out from beneath him, but he used the weight of his hips to bear down and subdue her until her body lay directly parallel under his. She closed her eyes and tried to consider her options. He was too maddened to listen to reason and she couldn't cast any spells with her hands immobilized. An all-out wrestling match would only exacerbate his wounds. Her eyes fluttered open in panic when she noticed Anders' breathing had become winded, as if he had run for miles.

_Maker's breath, he was sexually aroused! What have I gotten myself into now?_

Anders groaned as he ground his hardened member against her sex. "Why can't I get you out of my dreams?" he muttered hoarsely, and lowered his head to kiss her. She stiffened as his tongue gently ran along the closed seam of her lips.

_He is poison. If you lower your guard again, he will destroy you_.

However, she could muster little resistance with Anders' whiskey-colored eyes looking at her _like that_, along with the welcome weight of his lean, muscular body pressed against hers. It had been so long since she allowed her emotions free rein; letting her heart dictate her actions.

She would be forever drawn to this man, with hands that could both heal and hurt, like a moth to a flame. With a little sigh, Solana shut her eyes and submitted to his questing lips.

_Maybe he'll calm down and go to sleep if I just let him have his dream for a minute._

"Sweetheart," he murmured, releasing her hands and cupping her breast. Solana jolted when he brushed his thumb over her nipple, but then he buried his face into her neck and nuzzled her. _Shit, _he still remembered how to push her buttons.

She bit back a moan when he pushed aside the layers of her gown and his clever fingers caressed her _there _in thoroughly wicked ways.

Her clothes suddenly felt too tight... she wanted to feel his naked body tangled with hers. Maker, if he didn't fuck her brainless now, she would die- NO! What in the hell was she thinking? She couldn't allow herself to be swept away again like the foolish, naive girl she'd been back at the Tower.

With tears of regret stinging her eyes, Solana placed her hand on his cheek and cast a sleep spell on him. Anders sighed heavily, and after a moment, his body relaxed into slumber on top of her.

Bloody hell, he was heavy.

"Anders?"

No response, only a soft snore. Carefully, she shifted him off her so he lay on his back again. She checked his bandages, and then sent a stream of healing magic into his wound to staunch the bleeding. She tried to process the enormity of what she'd been about to do, but she was so tired. Perhaps she would rest her eyes for just a minute...

When she blearily awoke some time later, she put her hand against Anders' forehead to check his temperature. He was burning up, hotter then she'd ever seen him. Panicked, she levered herself out of bed and quickly cast an ice spell, bathing his body in a deep blue pulse of cool light to bring down the fever. She racked her brain for any additional spells or poultices she could apply, but could think of none. When she finally ran out of mana, she sat dejectedly back on the bed, with her head in her hands.

"Anders," she whispered brokenly. "Don't leave me alone again."

A quick knock on the door had Solana off the bed like a shot. When Moira entered the room carrying a tray, Solana was busy folding sheets of linen into neat little squares.

"Has he improved at all, my Lady?"

"His fever has gotten worse," Solana replied flatly. "I don't know what else to do... if it doesn't break soon, he'll die."

Moira set the tray down on a nearby table, poured tea into a thick ceramic mug and handed it to Solana, who took it gratefully.

Moira looked thoughtfully at Anders for a moment. "When I had a fever, Mam would brew willowbark tea and make me drink it."

"Really? I'm not much of an herbalist." Solana took a sip from her mug and suddenly frowned. "What is this? This isn't my usual coffee."

Moira flushed. "Begging your pardon, my Lady, but I took the liberty of brewing a pot of that herbal mixture Anders mixed up for you. I know you don't like it, but you look so peaked, and Anders had been going on and on about its restorative powers-"

"What?" A flash of inspiration suddenly struck her. Why hadn't she thought of it before? Being an expert in herb lore was part and parcel of being a skilled healer. Surely Anders kept written recipes of poultices and remedies to draw down the fever and get rid of the infection!

"My Lady?"

She could've kissed Moira at that very moment. With a renewed sense of purpose, Solana grabbed her satchel and threw open the door. "Keep an eye on Anders; I'll be back in ten minutes!"

"Where are you going?"

"To the stillroom!"

"But my Lady-"

However, Solana was already long gone.

* * *

The stillroom was universally acknowledged as Anders' domain. When Solana entered the room, the air was redolent with the scent of drying herbs. Large shelves dominated one side of the room from ceiling to floor, where glass jars filled with powders and reagents stood neatly labelled. A large work table had been placed under the window facing out to the south; where a mortar and pestle as well as a number of crucibles lay. Solana immediately headed towards a writing desk cluttered with papers and piles of books that had been stacked haphazardly. After searching for a few minutes, she found a book of recipes for poultices (written in Anders own hand) to treat various conditions. Leafing through the pages, she located a promising poultice recipe and scanned the list of required ingredients.

Solana blinked repeatedly when Anders' neat script began to blur. Rubbing at her eyes in annoyance, she began to collect the necessary herbs.

"Ah, there you are, my Warden. May we talk?"

Solana's head snapped up as she spotted Zevran leaning against the door. "You're back!"

"Indeed, and with some very interesting things to report about our Bann Esmerelle."

Solana nodded distractedly. "It'll have to wait until later."

Zevran moved so quietly that she nearly dropped a flask when he sidled next to her. "We need to talk,_ cara_."

"I really don't have the time to-"

"It will only take a minute."

"Very well," Solana allowed reluctantly.

Zevran took her hands into his and tugged her towards him. With a sigh, she allowed herself to be pulled into his welcome embrace.

"It has been very lonely without you," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You look exhausted. You have been pushing yourself too hard again, yes?"

"I've been occupied with nursing duties."

"I find myself curious as to the reason why you seem so devoted to _Gerald_," Zevran asked blithely (Zevran's pet nickname for Anders). "Could it be because you still are in love with him?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied stiffly.

"C_ara_, you are as transparent as glass. That little job you sent me on was thoroughly unnecessary. Did you think I would be jealous of Gerald?" Zevran commented wryly. "Let me ask you this then: why do you put so much effort into the recovery of the man who broke your heart? There are plenty of servants who could keep watch over him, yet you have barely left his side. If not love, why else?"

Solana raised an imperious brow. "I would treat you with the same due diligence if you'd been similarly injured," she retorted sharply. "Besides, love is for _fools_."

Zevran gently tilted her face to look him directly in the eyes with his finger. "Ah, such formal language from you, _cara._ There is something you are not telling me."

Solana let out a huff of frustration. "Very well! He saved me once... when I was an Apprentice in the Tower."

Zevran remained silent, looking at her expectantly.

"A Templar cornered me in a storeroom once and tried to force himself on me. I cast a spell to throw him off, but it was more powerful than I expected. The blast threw him against the wall and he lay on the floor... " She shuddered, remembering the smell of burnt flesh and how the Templar's arm had jutted out at an unnatural angle. "Anders happened to be passing by and he heard the commotion. He took one look and immediately shoved me into this tiny side closet just as the Templars arrived and took the blame for everything!"

"What happened next?"

"They whipped him for it. I asked him why he would do such a thing for me, but Anders just laughed and said he had a tough hide."

"That Templar," Zevran asked. "Did he exact his revenge?"

"He never bothered me again, though I'm not sure why. Perhaps Anders had something to do with that as well."

"I see. Why did you never mention this before?"

"What was the point? There was Blight to contend with and those memories were... painful... to recall." She wiggled free of his arms. "I've got to get back to this poultice-"

"Let me do it for you."

"No-"

"I'm afraid I must insist, _cara. _You will fall over dead from your own stubbornness! No, do not make that face at me. You cannot bear this burden on your own. Let me help."

"Why are you helping him?" Solana asked, baffled. "You despise him!"

"I am doing it for you, _cara_." Some unnamed emotion gleamed in Zevran's eyes, but it quickly disappeared. "Now," he said briskly. "It is simple enough for me to follow Gerald's recipe, no?" Zevran gestured to a nearby chair. "Sit, amora. Now."

Solana meekly obeyed (a rare sight indeed) while Zevran quickly and efficiently finished making the poultice. Taking the mixture with him, he grabbed a few extra pots along the way, and then walked with Solana back to Anders' room.

"My Lady, you've returned!" Moira exclaimed. "What now?"

"I need to clean the wound, then apply the poultice-"

"You are weary beyond measure, _cara_, and have done enough," Zevran interrupted. "Take a moment to rest, and I shall attend to the mage for you."

Solana sighed and sat down again. She watched with interest as Zevran took off Anders' bandages and cleaned the wound, repeatedly rinsing it out with whiskey until it bled red, rather than the foul pus that had been there before. While Moira carted away the load of dirtied linen, Zevran proceeded to apply the poultice. Out of the extra pot, he then drizzled what appeared to be honey on the bandages, before re-covering Anders' wound.

"Why did you use honey on the bandages?" Moira asked.

"So the dressing will not stick to the wound," Zevran explained as he finished wrapping the linen. "It will also help the wound heal more quickly. And now, my Warden it is time for you to rest."

"No!" Solana quickly stood and glared at the rogue, though it seemed the room had begun to spin quite suddenly. "It is vital that I stay here until the fever breaks-"

Zevran merely smirked as he easily caught Solana as she finally fainted from exhaustion. He carefully hefted her into his arms and quirked an eyebrow at Moira. "You will watch over Gerald, yes?"

"As if he were one of my own," Moira replied resolutely. "His colour seems to be improving a bit already."

Zevran nodded and swept Solana from the room.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to b, my totally genius and excellent beta who improved the flow and wording (and logic), EVERYTHING REALLY, of the story. Thank you so much, dearest!_

_ZOMA, this chapter has been rewritten multiple times! I went on vacation last weekend and spent it finishing it up. I wish I could write faster...each word is like squeezing blood from a stone for me, yet I can't not write! Perhaps I should change my nom de plume to "Dear Dotty Old Thing That Likes DA"._

_As always, thank you to everyone who has read, favorited and alerted this story! I really really appreciate the feedback and reviews (especially from LampPostInWinter, FantasyFiend09, Obscura_Wilde, __Shakespira, and BranowynIvy! You guys are awesome!_!) 

___The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware._


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